


To Re-Write All the Wrongs

by Benedicthiddleston



Category: Adventures in Odyssey
Genre: Darkness Before Dawn AU, What If story, rewritten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston
Summary: Instead of Jack Allen in the tunnel during "The Final Conflict", someone else shows up. A Darkness Before Dawn AU/What If one-shot.





	To Re-Write All the Wrongs

Tom Riley gave one weary look at the buzzing hospital entrance and attempted to look inconspicuous as he took a side door into the building. The press were out in full force after Dr. Regis Blackgaard had collapsed at his press conference the day before and been admitted to Odyssey General Hospital. As Tom was still Mayor of Odyssey, and Dr. Blackgaard had – strangely enough – stepped down from the recall race, the press would have loved to have his thoughts on the past thirty-six hours. If nothing else, the town had faced a very strange summer and the townspeople did not seem happy with how Tom had handled it. Any reason to avoid the swarming press was a plus in Tom’s mind. 

Tom had been to the hospital the day before when Jack had to leave unexpectedly – Jason had been arrested. Tom had stayed late into the evening, eventually leaving at the request of the patient – Mr. Richard Maxwell. Jack had called that morning stating he was busy working on Jason’s situation and wondered if Tom could visit Richard.   
It was a short walk to the medical-surgical wing on the first floor of Odyssey General once Tom was past the press mob. Richard had been in the Intensive Care Unit from admission until about twelve hours after he came out of a coma. With any immediate sense of danger having passed, he was moved to the medical-surgical unit about five hours before Tom had shown up in his hospital room the night before.

They both had needed to remedy the past and actually move forward into the future. Tom offered his forgiveness wholeheartedly, and Richard seemed to only timidly accept it, offering up his own forgiveness. But Tom had had a nagging feeling the entire night that something was wrong – that even though his forgiveness had been extended to the young man, it was taken on a very thin line. But Tom didn’t know what that line was, nor did he exactly understand Richard well, having exiled the young man for quite some time.

Now, however, they could start at the beginning. Learn from each other. Grow. Maybe even be the Christian Tom knew he needed to be, especially to those around him. Richard would rest and heal, eventually be released from the hospital, and Tom would do what he could to not only repair the relationship with Mr. Richard Maxwell, but also to repair the relationship between the town of Odyssey and his own disastrous mayoral run.

Tom knocked on the door to room 1115, waiting for a response from within. When none came, Tom carefully stepped into the room. “Richard?” He called out, eyes scanning the room for any sign that the young man was even nearby. The bathroom door was ajar, the light off. The bed was empty, the blanket haphazardly thrown over the mattress and pillow. Richard’s few personal possessions were nowhere to be found. A hospital gown was over the chair in the corner of the room. 

There might have once been an occupant in that hospital room, but at that moment, Tom was convinced Richard had left against medical advice, running away. But running away from what? And to where?

Tom frowned. “Lord, help me. I’ve lost him.”

* * *

After realizing Jellyfish was not within Whit’s End’s walls, Dr. Regis Blackgaard had told Professor Bovril to get the van. They needed to get out of town quickly. If Jellyfish had been caught, it was only a matter of time until the silly police force of Odyssey were swarming the building. And Dr. Blackgaard had no intention of meeting up with said police force, let alone allowing them to stop him from his plans. As for the good Doctor himself, Blackgaard stepped into the secret tunnel behind – well, more below – Whit’s End, breathing in the fresh scent of recently cultivated dirt and precious mineral.

He had dreamed of this day for a very long time. To finally have the very thing he had been seeking for years was almost beyond comprehension. A plethora of people, dealings, and lies had led to this victory. The mineral was the last piece to a very complex puzzle, which was all about to be revealed.

But first, Dr. Blackgaard had to rid himself of the building that had caused him far too many problems in his quest for success and wealth.

Earlier in the week, Professor Bovril had teamed up with the ever-incompetent Phillip Glossman to wire the tunnel and the basement of Whit’s End for explosives. Dynamite was carefully hidden in various places through-out the walls and dirt of the tunnel. All Dr. Blackgaard needed to do was get a fair distance from the point of detonation with the ignition line and set off the blast. He was ready. He just needed one thing.

The detonator had been carefully hidden behind an inconspicuous panel of plywood towards the end of the tunnel. It was already connected to the cable. Beside it was – an apple?

Dr. Blackgaard picked up the apple, his right eyebrow raising menacingly. His computer hard drive was gone, and in its place was a bruised red apple. Someone was playing a joke on him. Maybe it was Bovril. Or Jellyfish – maybe it was why he hadn’t shown up at Whit’s End like he said he would. The younger man had been a thorn in his side since day one, but he had been obedient and liked to create havoc, which had been exactly what Blackgaard had needed at the time. But considering the alternative – it was worth it, in the end.

Glaring at the apple, Dr. Blackgaard tossed it behind him. But instead of it smashing into the ground or even into the door leading to the outside behind him, creating a crunching or squishing sound, the sound of an apple being caught in someone’s open hand caught the Doctor off guard. He slowly turned, eyes narrowed. He could not be sure how someone had hidden away in such an unknown tunnel. Few knew about it, and fewer had access to it.

“Hiya, Doc.”

 _In the flesh._ Dr. Regis Blackgaard sneered. Before him was the obvious ghost of someone who had long been dead. Or that’s what Jellyfish had promised that evening not too long ago. Professor Bovril had remained quiet, not responding to inquiries about how it had gone. Had the poor boy put up a fight or had he surrendered willingly, knowing it was going to be the end? Jellyfish had spoken little in terms of the actual response to that question, but he had offered adequate responses. The nuisance was dead. And then they had moved on in the conversation, far more important things to be discussed and details ironed out.

Now, the untruth of it all came crashing upon his head, and Dr. Blackgaard was undoubtedly, irrationally, unhappy.

“Oh, you were probably wondering about the apple.” The stranger shrugged the best they could, one hand holding the apple while the second one was held protectively against their stomach as they nursed an aching broken wrist. “I stole it. Well, not quite. It had come on my breakfast tray this morning in the hospital, but I decided against actually eating it. Would you like it?” The _boy_ held out the piece of fruit. “You look like you could use something to eat.”

Pursing his lips, Dr. Blackgaard stared at the boy. He folded his hands behind his back, shaking his head slowly. “Richard. Back from the dead, I see. A magic trick, or a carefully crafted lie?”

Richard managed a half smile, his hand absently dropping the apple onto the ground. “Neither, remarkably. As I’m sure Myron forgot to mention, he left me to die at the edge of the road. Jack Allen found me. You have very poor taste in henchmen, Doc. They really did a terrible job.”

“Hmmm. I beg to differ.” The Doctor nodded at the bruises, the scratches, and the obvious broken wrist and injured leg Richard happened to be sporting. “But I have no need at this time to have you go into specific details on how you managed to come back from the dead. Because as it would be, you will die. Foolish, Richard, very foolish. You can neither save Whit’s End, or yourself. I have had a back-up plan ever since the beginning. And you, of all people, cannot stop me.”

Richard took a faltering step forward, his facial features accented by the dim light of a single hanging lightbulb. They were marred by bruises and a scratch that was sure to scar running down his right cheek, jaw, and neck, disappearing behind his ragged hair. “I never came here to save Whit’s End. I came here to stop you, to make sure you get exactly what you deserve.”

The Doctor laughed, throwing his head back as he did. “Really? And what would that be? Oh, you want me to go to jail. To pay for my crimes. Might I remind you, I have not done anything wrong. I used others for that very purpose. Just like I used you. And to think you have stopped me because you took my silly old hard drive? Ha!”

“You have always underestimated me, Blackgaard. But today that will change.”

As if on cue, the sirens that had been heard earlier seem to come roaring closer. The police were coming, and soon.  
“If you mean the police, they won’t make it in time. You see, I rigged this tunnel to blow at my command. And unfortunately for you, you are not only in my way of escape, but you are now a helpless victim of my destruction.”

Dr. Blackgaard wrapped his fingers around the detonator behind him, eyes trained on the nuisance before him. All he needed to do was push the button and use the useless human flesh as a shield in the attempt to get out. It sounded like a solid plan.

Slowly shaking his head, Richard reached into his sweater pocket and withdrew a piece of dynamite. “You could certainly blow this place to smithereens, as is your usual plan with buildings you no longer want to be associated with; but it might be a bit difficult when you have no way of getting the initial ignition.”

His fingers curled into a fist behind his back, his displeasure evident on his face. “I was wrong about you, Richard. If there was only some way I could give back all that has been unfairly taken from you.” Dr. Blackgaard had always had a back-up plan. It had been shoved into his coat pocket since the beginning. All contingencies had been covered. This would only end one way – and one way only.

“Alas, all I have is – this!”

It happened so quickly - there was a bang as a gun went off, and then a deafening crash as the unstable dynamite blew.

* * *

Tom stepped from the car, his eyes focused on Jason and Jack. He had barely missed them at the police station and had followed them post haste to Whit’s End, where the building was surrounded by officers and – luckily – the bomb squad.

“We have to know who might all be in that tunnel before he decides to blow it!” Jason was adamantly trying to get Lieutenant Shaw to reason with him, but Tom could see it wasn’t working.

“It’s too unsafe. We have to –“

Tom hated to interrupt, but this was vital information. “I know who is in that tunnel.”

Jason turned, his face a mixture of confusion and apprehension. “Tom! How do you possibly know?!”

Jack, having been quiet for some time, finally spoke up. “Tom was covering for me at the hospital. If you’re here, however, I assume you have unfortunate news for us.”

Tom nodded slowly. “Richard checked himself out of the hospital. I have every reason to believe he caught wind of Dr. Blackgaard’s plans and he came here. He’s in that tunnel, and he is with Dr. Blackgaard.”

“Who last believed Richard was dead,” Jason said softly, realization dawning on his face. “Lieutenant, we _have_ to get into that tunnel! Lives are at stake!”

But before any of them could speak another word, the explosive detonation of the dynamite shook the ground, dirt flying everywhere, smoke curling up into the sky from the point of impact.

In an instant, Jason had taken off towards the blast site, ignoring calls from multiple officers and even Tom, who all knew it was likely useless to try to save anyone at that point – the blast was most definitely deadly.

Jack was on his knees, praying, anguish written all over his face.

Tom felt a heartbreak he didn’t quite understand. After all the time that had passed, only recently had he forgiven Richard. And now, Richard was dead. There was no other way to describe the pain. All Tom could do was pray to God in Heaven, for peace and understanding.

Odyssey would not understand the sacrifices made in this fight of good versus evil. But Tom would remember, always.

* * *

If his body hadn’t been aching before, Richard would have assumed he had died in that freak explosion. His broken leg was numb but the muscles screamed at him to move. And then they promptly yelled when he did eventually move – even a centimeter. His broken wrist felt like it had re-broken in another spot, his hand useless. His head ached and felt like it was splitting, his eyes swimming under closed eye lids. He was a disaster – again.

But he knew he had lived – the pain confirmed that.

Along with the voices.

“It’s a miracle we even found him! Jack, he could have died!”

 _Miracle_ … Richard pried his eyes open, the clouded sun burning into his fragile soul. He moaned, scrambling to sit up. He was _alive_?! After all of that?! Did he have more lives than a cat? And what of Dr. Blackgaard? Richard had a million questions, but his voice didn’t seem to work.

A paramedic, who was standing beside the stretcher Richard was lying on, placed a comforting hand on his chest. “Wow there, son. You are in no shape to be sitting up. But it is good to see you awake.”

Richard sucked in a breath, eyes trying to focus. He saw Tom and Jack nearby, with Jason in the distance talking to a police officer. Richard had to know – needed to have his questions answered.

“Doctor – Dr. Blackgaard?”

Jack stepped over at hearing Richard’s voice. He was smiling sadly. “That was a very dumb thing to do, Richard. Brave, courageous, but dumb. You were still recuperating from your earlier injuries.”

With his relatively still good hand, Richard waved him off. “Blackgaard. Did you find him?”

The older man shook his head. “The explosives were poorly placed. And with all the police activity around, even if he had survived, he wouldn’t have been able to get far without being seen or needing help. It is far more likely that Dr. Blackgaard is dead, however we have no found any remains thus far. We barely found you as it was, buried under rubble.”

Richard sagged into the stretcher. The bastard had died a senseless death. And nothing would change. Richard would continue as an outcast and the rotten piece of scum who had orchestrated every evil wrong doing would get off scot free from all punishment – all because he more than probably did die. There was no redemption in the future, no hope of a sense of satisfaction in bringing down a murderer, liar, thief, manipulator, world-known drug dealer, and whatever else the evil despot had committed in his year of world demolition and denomination.

And that damn blast had only injured Richard further, instead of stealing his breath, his thoughts, his life. Even in a final act of destruction, Dr. Blackgaard couldn’t murder Richard Maxwell. There was some small comfort in that thought, but Richard felt none of it. He only felt regret and emotional pain. The physical pain was something he would have to deal with anyway. He had lost – and would never have the satisfaction of besting that man.

Jason walked over, his own face full of concern. “We were sure you have died, Richard. Only by God’s grace and mercy are you awake with us right now.”

“Worse for wear, I guess. A miracle, or whatnot you would call it. But this wasn’t a miracle. This was dumb luck. He is still dead, and I don’t get to see him waste away in a jail cell.”

“Revenge does nothing for either person.”

Richard looked away, sulking. “It was supposed to be justice. I didn’t care if I died – I just wanted him to pay for everything he did against – against everyone and everything. Whit, you, Tom, Lucy… me.”

Jason nodded. “I get it – I do. But take solace in the fact you aren’t dead right now. Only another trip to the hospital.”

Lieutenant Shaw walked over at that time. “Is he stable?”

The paramedics nodded.

Richard reflexively swallowed. He hated dealing with the police, but he knew this was going to be inevitable. They would want to know everything – sooner rather than later.

“Whenever you feel up to it, I will need a statement. About what you know, what you knew before today, what happened to you, what happened down there, and all those involved.”

“It won’t matter much anymore. The one who deserved to pay died in that tunnel. He orchestrated it all, and yet still owes the world nothing in the end.”

Shaw sighed. “Formality, then.” He turned to the paramedics. “He is free to get admitted to the hospital.”

The two men nodded. Richard begrudgingly let them load him into the ambulance.

Tom found a spot in the back beside the stretcher, his eyes looking out to the command center surrounding Whit’s End. It had been a center of laughter and happiness for so long, and now it had turned into sadness and death with apparent destructive intent. It was such a different look. Would he place Whit had built so gracefully be all for naught after Dr. Blackgaard’s reckoning? Only time would tell.

The doors closed and Tom turned his attention to the young man sulking in the bed.

“You had me worried.”

Richard wanted to chuckle. Tom Riley, worried about little ol’ Richard Maxwell? How? But Richard just sighed. “I understood him like no one else. And that scared me. I couldn’t let him win. So I went after him. Maybe I ruined his satisfaction in believing I was dead. For all I know, he really thought I was a ghost. What can you do in killing a ghost? But it’s all over now. He’s dead.”

“But you lived.”

He shrugged. “I’m a nobody. And I’m comfortable with that.

“You’ve been – good to me, Mr. Riley. You forgave me, I forgave you. But let’s not kid that it’s going to be all sun and roses from here on out. I have a life back in Chicago. Odyssey will never be home – I just owed this town. Still do.”

Before Tom could respond, his own thoughts turning, the ambulance had arrived back at Odyssey General and within a few minutes Richard was back in the Emergency Room, Tom escorted to the waiting rom. He would wait – it was the least he could do.

* * *

Eventually Richard was discharged from the hospital and slipped from town, getting back to whatever life he had back in Chicago.

Tom would always think about that summer, wondering if things could have gone differently if he hadn’t been so stubborn, if he had actually paid attention to everything that had been going on around town. But it was now the past, and the future was before them.

Jason and Jack worked together to fix Whit’s End once the police finished their investigation. No trace of Dr. Blackgaard was ever found. While it continued to be a mystery, the doctor was officially written off as dead, and the town continued forward in its hopes and dreams.

Odyssey, of course, continued on. Nothing could bring it down. Not even Dr. Blackgaard.

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever read a similar story like this one, then you read my older version. This one has been completely rewritten. I'm way more happy with this one than the last version. The end is still choppy, but it's better than nothing. Plus I have more WIPs to get onto!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
